Finn leads us into his living room, that is exactly what you’d expect from a single Manhattan lawyer in his midthirties—black leather, chrome, giant flat-screen TV. I take a seat on one of the chairs facing the couch, and Andrew sits on the couch on the end farthest from me, while my brother sits on the end closest to me. Zahra returns with my wine in hand and passes it to me.

“Thank you.” I realize they must have been already sitting in these spots when Zahra sits between them and leans forward for her own glass of wine on the glass coffee table in front of her.

“When are you expecting Mom and Dad?” I ask Finn.

“Not until closer to dinner. They had some friends in the city they were stopping to see first.”

I nod and sip my wine, knowing I’m going to need to be tipsy at the very least to get through tonight. There are so many dynamics at play here that it’s hard to keep track.

“How’s work?” Finn asks.

My gaze flicks to Andrew, but when I find his eyes intently on me, I look back at my brother. “It’s good. Busy of course, because of the holidays coming up.”

“Finn said you do event planning?” Zahra says.

I nod. “It’s my own company, and I have a grand total of one employee.” I smile and thumb my chest. “But I love it. I contract out most of the work for an event, so I don’t really need anyone else at this point, but if I continue to grow, I can see bringing on an assistant or something. Someone to make follow-up calls, do the paperwork and billing.”

Zahra smiles. “You’ll have to give me a card before you leave. With the nature of my business, I have all kinds of people coming to the restaurants we work with for events. I can pass your name on, and maybe you can refer some of your clients to check out our spaces for their events, if you think it could work.”

I beam. “That would be great.”

My brother gives Zahra a chaste kiss.

Oh boy, he’s a goner. I can tell just from the way he’s looking at her all doe eyed.

When he pulls away, Finn looks at Andrew. “You guys have that big Christmas party at the firm every year, right? Maybe next year you can refer Mac for the job?”

Andrew had just taken a drink of his beer, and he sputters and coughs, leaning forward to set the beer on the coffee table. He thumps himself on his chest. “Wrong hatch,” he says with a strangled voice.

Finn looks at him quizzically, then shrugs, returning his attention to Zahra. “Want some help getting those apps together? No sense waiting for my parents. They’ll show when they show.”

“I thought dinner was being catered?” I ask.